


9x–7i>3(3x-7u)

by AliaMael



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Don't worry it doesn't stick but I'd rather tag just in case, Except for A New Day, M/M, Pining, maths - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:40:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25166356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliaMael/pseuds/AliaMael
Summary: Sholovedbalanced equations. Integrable functions. Fundamental theorems solid enough to wear a whole field of studies on their shoulders.So, of course, he fell in love at first sight with Kitaniji.
Relationships: Kitaniji Megumi/Minamimoto Sho
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

Sho _loved_ balanced equations. Integrable functions. Fundamental theorems solid enough to wear a whole field of studies on their shoulders.

So, of course, he fell in love at first sight with Kitaniji.

(The fact that first sight was also first meeting with Sho as a Reaper helped. Kitaniji was never more precise, more _utterly reliable_ than when acting as Conductor in front of a bunch of Reapers.)

Staying focused on the actual topic of the meeting was one of the hardest things Sho had done in his life, and when the Reapers got dismissed he stayed behind until Kitaniji noticed him.

"Yes?"  
"Your equation matches mine. Our system has only one solution!"

Kitaniji stared for a second, then left without acknowledging him. Sho fought back his disappointment. He was only the newest guy around, no wonder he didn't appear on the graph. Now it would become his mission to make Kitaniji notice him.

He began by working _hard_. He was just a Reaper amongst many, but if he could become the maximum of this function Kitaniji would surely pay attention to him.

The result was disappointingly ambiguous. On one hand, Sho certainly gained the attention of his superiors. He became Officer in record time, was lauded as a genius, praised as the youngest of the group. But on the other hand, Kitaniji didn't seem to look at _him_ , so even the impressive number that was his age didn't matter.

Sho pondered the possibility to take a diametrically opposed approach but quickly dismissed it. He couldn't bear risking to _disappoint_ Kitaniji. He would go on being good at what he did. He just needed to add another axis.

He dismissed the rules. He could get the same results, or even better ones, without them anyway. He was trying to be unique, yes, but he was also incidentally helping the Game to run smoothly, so only those lacking in Imagination could complain, and how ironic it was to find that yes, it was possible even in Officers. Konishi, who had only positive values to assign to him before, began berating him for his lateness, his lack of cooperation, his eccentricity. Her loss if she couldn't understand his calculations.

But the more this went on, the more obvious it became that Kitaniji didn't join in on the reprimands. Maybe he judged that Konishi's scolding was sufficient. Or maybe he was beginning to _see_ Sho for who he really was, understand what he could really do.

Sho tried to spend more time with Kitaniji, but it was almost impossible. The Conductor never lingered after the meetings were over, and so Sho had to engineer pretexts. Kitaniji always listened to his proposals for variations in the Game without showing any reaction. He didn't dismiss him. He also never used these ideas.

But the simple fact that he let Sho talk was an opening. So Sho began testing. The more serious plans got him nothing, but with time he learnt to decipher Kitaniji's expressions a bit better and yes, these faint twitches at the corner of his lips when he listened to the more extravagant ideas were contained smiles, Sho was certain of that.

He was happy to be able to make Kitaniji smile. He also wanted more. He persevered.

With the months passing, periodicity appeared. He knew when and where to catch Kitaniji, and he never let an occasion to talk to him slip away. He still couldn't say he was talking _with_ him given that Kitaniji mostly let him monologue, but he never asked him to leave him alone, so it had to be a strictly positive result, right?

At some point, Kitaniji asked him how Sho managed to find him even when he was in the most improbable sections of Shibuya. Sho shrugged.

"Well, you're my asymptote…"

Kitaniji seemed to accept that as a perfectly rational answer, but didn't react otherwise. Which was slightly disappointing.

Eventually, Sho decided to introduce a new variable.

The next time he called out to Kitaniji, he changed one word. Just one. But sometimes a single digit was more than enough to radically alter the result of an equation.

"Megs, I have this new idea!"

It was only because Sho now knew him well that he could see Kitaniji freeze upon being suddenly called by such a familiar nickname instead of his surname. But after the longest two seconds of Sho's life (maybe he had overstepped? maybe he had destroyed the fragile understanding he hoped they now had?), Kitaniji just asked him to develop, like he always did. Like if nothing had changed at all.

So Sho repeated the experience. Again, and again, and each time Kitaniji seemed less surprised until it became natural to call him this. Until it slipped out during a meeting, and while Konishi was prompt to tell Sho off, Megumi just waited for the commotion to calm down to continue the briefing.

Sho counted it as a victory.

When Megumi casually began using Sho's first name instead of his surname, even if he only did it in private, Sho knew he had been right.

Even if Sho didn't dare call what they had a friendship, they at least had _something_. They spent time together. They were on first name basis. Sho managed to make Megumi smile, as discreet as it was.

It was _good_. Far from perfect, but still good.

But, spending this much time around Megumi, Sho couldn't help but observe some facts. Notably, that Megumi treated the Composer, whoever He was, as if he was a perfect entity whose word was law. And while the Composer did have a tremendous power over the UG, Sho doubted he was as flawless as Megumi painted him.

It was painfully obvious that Megumi would do anything, even give up his life, for that mysterious Composer who didn't even show himself to anyone else. And the thing was, Sho was not that confident that the Composer would not one day demand too much of Megumi. From what little he could gather, the Composer seemed fickle, prone to unpredictable behavior, and that worried him.

(Yes, he was slowly gaining his own reputation of being utterly chaotic but, once more, it was not his fault if people couldn't look at a perfectly calculated pattern and recognize it for what it was.)

He didn't like that the Composer could be a danger for Megumi, but what could he do? Megumi was the epitome of loyalty and valued it in others enough to have gathered of bunch of hierarchy lovers as Officers.

… he couldn't take on the Composer by himself, right?

Still, he did his best to optimize his growth. Being prepared for the worse couldn't hurt. And if he gained a reputation of arrogance for the way he didn't bother to hide his skills, he couldn't care less.

For a while, he was tempted to call his intuition paranoia. Then a routine pre-Game meeting made him think that he was maybe closer to the mark than even him thought. For once, he didn't like being right.

It started normally enough. Megumi waited for Sho to make his entrance with his usual five to ten minutes of delay, Konishi glared daggers at him for his lateness, and Megumi began.

"The Composer wish to… fine-tune the way the Game is run. He'd like to make it more challenging. Too many Players manage to win without putting enough efforts in learning for it to be a valuable experience. Do you have suggestions that could up the difficulty without throwing the balance off?"

If that was not a clue for Sho to speak, he didn't know what was.

"More logic based missions," he immediately proposed. "We're testing their ability to fight, to follow instructions, even their emotional skills, but nothing on their capacity to think more, or even _differently_."

Konishi sighed. She often did whenever Sho talked during the Officers meetings.

"For the last time, Minamimoto, the Game is _not_ a maths test."  
"I don't see why not."  
"The Game is about refining someone's Imagination. There is nothing imaginative in maths," Konishi affirmed.  
"Nothing imaginative in maths?! Just because you're utterly clueless doesn't mean everyone is–"  
"Minamimoto, please," Megumi tried to intervene.

Usually, being acknowledged like this would have made Sho shut up and stare at Megumi in wonder. Unfortunately he was far too infuriated for that right now.

"Saying there's no imagination in maths is like saying there's nothing imaginative in playing an instrument!" Sho went on. "Just because you _can_ play by following what's written on a music sheet to a T doesn't mean it's the only way to do it!"

Konishi opened her mouth to argue, but wasn't fast enough.

"Officers," Megumi insisted.

Konishi threw a last disdainful look at Sho before schooling her features into her usual mask of professional politeness.

"We're listening," she said.  
"Good. Unless an idea is strictly impossible to use because of logistics problems, this meeting is not to discuss the comparative merits of them all. I want to gather as many proposals as possible. The Composer will be the one choosing if He wants us to use some specific ones or if we should decide by ourselves."  
"Maybe we could offer more incentive for the Reapers to put Players in difficulty?" Konishi suggested. "Alterations in the promotion system could push them to up the competition."  
"Something to check if they were paying attention to their actions and their environment? A memory test?" Sho tried.

Megumi took notes, and the brainstorming session went on. When it was over, Sho followed after Megumi.

"Something on your mind?" Megumi asked, letting Sho catch up with him.  
"Did the Composer really said he wanted the Game to be more challenging?"

Megumi hesitated, which was a confession in itself.

"I trust you not to repeat it," Megumi finally said. "His exact words were 'This is way too boring.' Which doesn't change anything to the fact that He was asking for a more challenging Game for the Players."  
"Yeah, exact bijection," Sho answered, rolling his eyes.

Megumi didn't contradict him. He was probably well aware that it was not the same, or else he wouldn't have asked Sho to keep quiet about it.

Would the Composer go as far as throwing Officers under the bus if he could get his fun out of it?

Sho watched Megumi leave, unease twisting his stomach. He didn't want to be right about the Composer being a danger to Megumi, but…

His calculations were always flawless.

In the next weeks, changes were made. Megumi didn't let it show, but Sho knew him too well by now to dismiss the tension that radiated more and more from him. The Composer was probably still bored, which was bad news for everyone. A being that powerful taking it upon him to make things "fun"? Well, for starters the chances that his definition of fun was the same as everyone else were tending toward zero. And then there was what he could _do_.

But Megumi was not saying anything, and that was driving Sho up the wall. In the end, it didn't matter, though. Sho would help him even if he made it difficult.

And then, it all came to a head.

It should have been a normal day. Sho was looking for Megumi just to chat. When he caught sight of him, the Conductor was standing just outside of the Dead God's pad, looking at something in his hand.

"Hey Megs!"

Megumi hurried to put his hand in his pocket, but it was too late. 

There was nothing in the world Sho knew better than numbers. He could trace their shapes with closed eyes. He could recognize them in a blink.

There was a timer on Megumi's palm.

"What do you want?" Megumi asked, nothing betraying how utterly _wrong_ the situation was.

Sho wanted to scream at him, to ask what the factor had lead to him entering a Game when he was already Conductor, to shake him out of his unending composure and have a look at what he really felt, for once, but Megumi was just staring at him, calmly, like he always did when Sho ambushed him with new ideas for the next Game. Megumi wanted to hide this. He didn't want Sho to know.

Sho forced out a smile and pretended he hadn't seen anything out of place. That was the only thing to do for now: offer Megumi what he wished.

"Well, I have this new idea for a mission…"

Sho let his mouth run on auto-pilot while the gravity of the situation slowly came to weight him down. Megumi was in a Game, and Sho had no idea what it was. Megumi had a timer, a _time limit_. If he lost, Megumi would _stop existing_.

That couldn't be. He wouldn't allow it.

He ignored the fear that wanted to paralyze him. It was time to take on the Composer. 

To save Megumi.

The following weeks were a tornado. Plans, calculations, new variables to take into account, failure, more plans, more variables, too much emotional investment, leading to more errors, Erasure, resurrection (and now no one could accuse Sho of being paranoid thank you very much), and above all growing _panic_. He was not enough. Despite all his efforts, Sho was not able to destroy the Composer before he destroyed Megumi.

In a last-ditch tentative, Sho went for a frontal confrontation in the Shibuya River.

He blacked out under the weight of a mountain of junk, with several broken bones, a probable concussion, and the certainty that he would never open his eyes again.

He had failed Megumi.


	2. Chapter 2

Intense, sudden pain dragged Sho back to consciousness. He groaned and instinctively tried to move.

"Woah there, stay put!"

It took him a handful of seconds to recognize the voice. What the factor was Hanekoma doing here?

"H?" Sho's voice sounded as broken as he felt. "What… are you doing?"  
"I'm digging you out of this mess. Literally. So don't move unless you want to get another microwave to the head."

Sho obeyed, too stunned to protest. Soon Hanekoma levitated the last of the rubble out of the way and crouched next to Sho. 

"He kinda did a number on you, eh?"

Sho growled. Hanekoma chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'm here to get you back on your feet. Just let me…"

He trailed off and put a hand on Sho's shoulder. Instant pain blossomed, stealing Sho's breath, before being chased away by the soothing sensation of magical healing.

"Here. Better?"

Sho slowly sat up, lost and confused. He was still hurting all over and his mind was sluggish, but he didn't feel on the verge of dying anymore. So it was probably better, all in all.

Hanekoma waved a hand in front of Sho.

"You with me?"  
"I…"

A beat.

"OK, you need more time, I get it. Let's get you home."

Hanekoma grabbed Sho and somehow managed to pull him up until he stood on wobbly legs. Then he sabotaged all these efforts by teleporting them straight into Sho's flat, destroying his fragile balance. Hanekoma caught him before Sho could fall on his face and guided him to a chair.

"There. Breathe."

Sho waited for the world to stop spinning. Slowly, as memories crept back in, worry rose in his mind, threatening to drown him.

"The Composer… what happened…?"  
"He won. Won against Megumi, and then decided to play another Game against Neku and won this one too. But he changed his mind and kept Shibuya, in the end. We can all thank Neku for that I think."

No. That couldn't be.

"What happened to… to them?" Sho couldn't help but ask, clinging to the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, it didn't meant Erasure.

Hanekoma sighed.

"Megumi got Erased. Neku and his friends were brought back to life. They're in the RG now."

Erasure. Life. They both lost, and this was the result.

"It's not even a function…"

Same cause, different results. Not a function. Not _fair_.

"Don't overthink it," Hanekoma advised. "Just rest for now. Josh will want to see you soon enough."

Sho didn't think he'd be able to face the Composer anymore, but he didn't say anything. Hanekoma left and, silently, Sho cried.

At some point, exhaustion must have caught back to him because Sho found himself slumped on his table, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He felt _empty_. He just couldn't understand that Megumi was _gone_. He had been fighting for the last weeks to avoid it, but he hadn't allowed himself to think about failure. It felt brutal. Sudden. 

How could it end like this? How had his calculations gone so _wrong_? How…

Wait a minute.

Sho had _died_. And he was back. He could bring Megumi back too! He was _so zetta stupid_!

He got up precipitately, uncaring about the chair falling behind him. He needed space. His flat was too small for the sigil he had to draw. He grabbed his paint and ran out, not even bothering to close the door.

Out of breath, lungs burning, he finally fell to his knees on the asphalt and began to draw. He had botched his first attempt at a resurrection sigil, but he had seen what Hanekoma had done to correct it. He could get it right this time.

_He would not fail._

Almost feverish, he put the last touch to his pattern. His hands were shaking.

He activated the sigil.

He felt the Soul converging in front of him, collapsing into a single being, trying to _live_. He couldn't help but hold his breath.

Then Megumi was there, lying on the sigil. He was unmoving, his clothes in disarray, his glasses gone, but he was _there_. He was back. Sho knew he should check on him, see if he had no lingering injury or whatever problem, but he was just paralyzed by the sight. Paralyzed by hope and elation.

Megumi blinked, then looked around him, confused.

"Sho…?"

The sound of his name broke something in Sho, and before he knew it he had tackled Megumi in a bone crushing hug and was sobbing on his shoulder. After a few seconds, Megumi hugged him back; Sho could only cry harder, all the tension of the past months crashing down on him at once.

"You… resurrected me?" Megumi eventually asked.

Sho nodded, unable to form words.

"My, my," an unwelcomed voice interrupted. "Talk about a touching reunion."

Sho didn't think. He was already standing between the newcomer and Megumi, growling, when he _consciously_ recognized the Composer.

"Don't touch him," he warned, low, menacing.

The Composer giggled.

"I always knew I could count on you for surprising me! Getting your claws out for dear Megumi? Didn't see it coming."  
"Josh," Hanekoma intervened.

Sho hadn't even seen him, standing just a step behind the Composer. He had been too focused on the _danger_.

"Don't push him," Hanekoma went on. "He's already halfway to his Noise form, you don't need to provoke him."

Sho just wanted them both to _leave_.

"Well, I suppose we got our answer about who was using Taboo once again and what for," the Composer admitted with a bored tone. "I guess there's no need for us to waste more time here."

Sho watched them walk away, ears filled with static, heart beating too wildly.

"Sho? It's alright, they're gone now…" Megumi gently called out.  
"They… he _killed you_!"  
"And you saved me."

Megumi embraced him from behind, his presence solid, reassuring. Sho felt like he was going to break down, too violently tugged from fear to relief to _hatred_ to…

He was shaking. His hands were not human anymore but full on Taboo Noise. Claws, like the Composer had pointed out.

"Megs…"  
"I'm here."

Sho didn't know what he wanted to say. He just… he needed to make sure that Megumi was safe.

"Sho, sit down and breathe," Megumi softly ordered.

Sho obeyed, more or less. His legs gave out way more than he actually sat, but Megumi was here, in front of him, _alive_ , holding his hands, repeating that all was right, and eventually Sho calmed down.

Megumi smiled at him, not one of his hidden smiles but an open one, sincere, radiant. Beautiful.

"9x–7i>3(3x-7u)" Sho blurted out without thinking.

Megumi chuckled.

"Sho. I just got resurrected, I have no idea what happened, and everything is confusing. I'm not in any state to remember the beginning of that inequation by the time you finish it. So… I'm sorry, but if you could make it plainer for once, that would be appreciated."

Sho could only blush in answer.

"Should I guess, then, and presume that you're hinting at the exact same thing you've been telling me since we met?"  
"You… you knew?" Sho stuttered, shocked.  
"I was your superior. I couldn't afford to be anything else than that. But, well, I think there is no way to fire someone more definitely than by killing them, so… I'm not your boss anymore."

Sho stared, speechless. He was now seeing all their past interactions in a new light and… did that mean… did he dare hope…?

Megumi stood, lightly pulling on Sho's hand to invite him to do the same.

"Let's get you home while your brain restarts, shall we?"

Sho nodded, still stunned. 

On their way to Sho's flat, Megumi didn't let go of his hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 9x–7i>3(3x-7u), when simplified, is equivalent to i<3u (I ♥ you)


End file.
